gym musings.

I was able to rejoin my gym this month; it was something I desperately needed for my rising stress level, self-confidence and my aching foot. The pool helps strengthen my left leg and foot, which is something I really need. But the gym does more than strengthen my body; it strengthens my soul, as cheesy as that sounds. If I've had a hard day, I can go to the gym and accomplish something I set out to do. On bad days, the gym feels like the one place I am successful, the one place where I am good at what I do. I feel at home in the gym. Even just walking through the parking lot, I can feel myself calm down and mentally prepare for my workout. Returning to the gym has been good for me in other ways. Freelance writing is a solitary pursuit. I have no coworkers or workplace. It's nice to go to the gym, see the regular workers there and see fellow tri team members and personal trainers that I'm friendly with. (And of course, Dan, aka "gym boy"). It makes me feel like I belong there.

I've always been an athlete; as a child I was a gymnast, then did karate and cheerleading. In high school I played Varsity tennis, ran winter track and threw javelin (that was short-lived and I sucked, but whatever). In college I played rugby. I'm lucky in the sense that I build muscle easily, so I'm able to see results fairly quickly.

I love the quivering-leg feeling after a 25 mile bike ride as I walk to the locker room. I wear the sweat stains on my tank top like a badge of pride. It is after a workout that I feel most attractive, because I feel strong and capable and proud. Maybe because I know what it's like to not feed your body right. In college, my nutrition was less-than-good. Looking good took precedent over being strong and healthy. I couldn't play a set of tennis back then if I wanted to, I would get so fatigued. But now.....now, I don't take it for granted. I am proud of what I can do and appreciate my health and fitness.

But the gym also brings my limitations front and center. My foot is sore every day. I still don't walk "normally," and I cannot run for more than 2 minutes at a time. I am still figuring out a running gait, and after a treadmill workout, my foot is sore for days. I cannot participate in brick workouts my tri team does, because I can't run the mile or two involved. (The lake swims are another story, but I don't have a speed suit/wetsuit). I watch the people running on the track with envy; I'm surprised I don't burn holes in their backs with my stare. Changing out of my shoes, I see my ugly scarred and bruised foot, and walking in my slides in the pool area, I am very conscious of how I walk.

It's frustrating. You have no idea what living with chronic pain/discomfort is like until you're living it. It's exhausting. It's upsetting. If I squat to look at something and somehow land/bend my left foot, I see stars, it's so painful. The strength difference between my two feet/legs is something of which I am always conscious. I just have to keep reminding myself that it supposedly takes a full year for recovery, and I had TWO major invasive surgeries on my foot in less than 6 months, which caused further stress/trauma to my body. I have to cut myself some slack and realize that, really, it's been a little over five months since the last surgery. Three and a half months out of the boot. I have to adjust to this "new normal." Would I do the surgery again? Of course. I had no choice, really. This was the right surgery, and my surgeon and his team were awesome. I guess I just underestimated recovery time.